Through Thick and Thin
by kgmohror
Summary: Bob's late and Peggy's worried. Where could he be, on this of all days? NOTE: This story is based primarily on the Cedar Cove series as interpreted by Hallmark network, not the original book series by Debbie Macomber.


**Through Thick &amp; Thin**

Absently wiping flour-dusted hands on the front of her polka dot apron, Peggy leaned over the countertop to peer out the kitchen window. Although dusk was falling fast, as it always did on the coast this time of year, she could still see the broad expanse of lawn - brown and crisp now - that slanted away from the house. In the far distance, blurred in the haze of twilight, was the tree-line that separated the river from the gravel road leading to 44 Cranberry Point.

Peggy squinted a little, scanning the horizon for the tell-tale cloud of dust that would herald Bob's pick-up barreling toward home. But as the last shards of the setting sun disappeared behind the trees, her husband's dark blue Ford was nowhere to be seen. Worried eyes shifted to the clock above the sink: 7:05.

With darkness closing around the Thyme &amp; Tide, Peggy hurried to turn on the porch light. She'd have to watch for Bob's headlights coming up the drive now. Unbidden, a memory two decades old insinuated itself into Peggy's mind: a night later and far darker than this, in a much smaller, run-down house. Her small, lovingly tended petunia bed in ruins, tire tracks marking the path of Bob's beat up old Chevy across the lawn. Her husband, stumbling and swearing as he half fell out of the cab and staggered toward the house.

She had almost left him that night – and so many other nights before and after. But as bad as it got, Peggy could never bring herself to walk away. She stayed, because she knew the _real_ Bobby Beldon, the sandy-haired, fun-loving kid with warm hazel eyes and dimpled smile that could stop a girl dead in her tracks. _That_ Bobby had given his Peg her first kiss, taught her to drive a stick shift, had written a painfully bad, deeply heartfelt love song for her 17th birthday. It was _that_ Bobby who had taken her hand the night before he shipped out for Da Nang and asked her to wait for him … to become his bride when he came home again. He'd slipped a modest diamond on her finger, and that ring became Peggy's touchstone over the next two years.

Now, Peggy's gaze flickered to her left hand and the solitary gold band that represented half a lifetime together. How many nights had she sat and twisted that band around her finger, half-sick from worry, waiting for Bob to stagger home from some dockside bar?

It was Bob, not Bobby, who had returned from the war. Leaner, taller, broader in chest and shoulder, Bobby Beldon had become a man in Vietnam. A man who carried a heart of darkness from the jungles of Southeast Asia all the way back to the sunny coast of Washington. Most of the time he was able to keep his demons locked away. Sometimes - increasingly often as the years passed - he couldn't.

But all that was in the past.

Peggy glanced again into the empty darkness outside the house, then toward the dining room. There were only two place settings on the damask tablecloth, and a pair of crystal flutes next to a silver ice bucket in which a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne rested. Two antique candlesticks holding slim, white tapers stood as the centerpiece. She wouldn't light the candles. Not until Bob came home.

In the dark stillness of the room, Peggy heard a low clink: the sound of melting ice cubes shifting in the ice bucket. She glanced at the clock again. 7:10. The knot that had been growing in Peggy's stomach since that afternoon tightened. She went back to the kitchen and lowered the oven temperature to warm.

It had seemed like a perfectly normal day. She'd run into town to pick up some groceries, and when she got home, Bob's pick up wasn't in the driveway. Perhaps she'd felt a vague flutter of apprehension then; it really wasn't like Bob not to tell her where he was going, or when he'd be back.

But then, Bob had been doing a lot of things that really weren't like Bob lately.

Last month, Bob had starting acting a little … odd. Peggy thought at first it was just the influence of the season; her husband was always a bit antsy and ornery during the winter months when fishing and tooling around the yard on his lawn tractor and tending his prize vegetable garden weren't available pastimes. Thank God he had his woodworking hobby to keep him from going completely stir crazy – lately he'd been spending almost every spare minute in the shop, often working late into the night and coming in only after Peggy was already in bed and asleep.

Peg sensed he was slightly concerned about their finances as well. His pension from the fishing company had given them a comfortable, though not lavish, retirement. But they'd sunk a lot of their savings into the Thyme &amp; Tide, and during the cold months when guests were scarce, Bob fretted a bit over the checkbook. Still, between tightening their belts a bit during the lean months and Peggy's occasional catering gigs, they were okay.

So what was it? Perhaps no one but a woman who had lived with the man for so long, who had been through so much with him, would have noticed the subtle shift in his behavior. Almost every day for the past month he'd jump in his pick-up late in the afternoon and speed off toward town. An hour or so later he'd return, looking a bit flushed and disheveled, and head straight upstairs to shower with barely a word for his wife.

Most disconcerting of all … he seemed to have lost his appetite. Peggy, who spent a fair amount of time chiding him about his sweet tooth, wouldn't have dreamed how it would sting when he started waving away an offered slice of huckleberry pie and passing a pan of fresh-baked brownies with barely a glance. Only the other day she'd whipped up a double batch of her oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, a special order for one of the downtown coffee shops. Knowing they were Bob's absolute favorite, she'd set aside a couple for him. When she appeared in his woodworking shop with plate of still-warm treats, he'd smiled and thanked her warmly – then set the plate aside. It was still there, untouched, when Peggy came to retrieve her plate the next day.

If it had been anyone but Bob Beldon, Peggy might have suspected he was having an affair. But in almost three decades of marriage, Peggy had never doubted her husband's fidelity. There was only one love in his past that Peggy still felt threatened by … and it was that fear that furrowed Peggy's brow as she looked out the window again, willing Bob's pick-up to appear. Bob Beldon had been sober for 20 years, long enough to sand the sharpest edges off the anxiety that Peggy, like everyone who loved an addict, still lived with every day. Since the day he took his last drink, Bob had spent every single day making amends, showing Peggy how he loved and cherished her. He was her Bobby again, and they had been so happy for so long. But all that could vanish in a moment … one little slip.

"Please, please let him be all right," Peggy whispered now. "God, please bring my Bob home to me."

A sudden stab of light through the kitchen window shook her out of her reverie. Headlights! Peggy ran to the back door and threw it open, gasping at the gust of cold wind that blew in around her. Bob was getting out of the pick-up, struggling a little, and for one moment Peggy's heart stopped, fearing the worst. But then he was walking toward her, firm and steady and strong. He cradled a cone of tissue paper in his arms and he was grinning.

"Bob! Thank God!" Peggy tumbled into his arms, crushing the tissue paper bundle between them.

"Wow! What a welcome!" Bob laughed, slipping a strong arm around her waist and guiding her into the house. Feeling her trembling against him, he stopped abruptly and looked at her. His handsome features creased into a look of confusion and concern. "Honey, what's the matter? Did the upstairs toilet overflow again?"

She shook her head, laughing now, giddy with relief. Bob was home, and he was just fine. She should be angry with him, but he was standing there blinking at her, so puzzled, so loving. So _Bob_. Peggy was too thankful to be really mad. Nevertheless, she made a fist and gave him a little slug on the arm.

"Ow. Hey!"

"I'm sorry." She quickly rubbed the spot she'd just punched. "But do you know what time it is? Why didn't you answer your cell? I was about to call out the state patrol!"

He glanced down at his watch. "It's 7:15. I'm only 15 minutes late. Traffic was hell on 82 all the way from Ellensberg, and you know cell reception is crap once you hit the valley. Cut a guy a little slack, will ya?"

"Ellensberg? What were you doing there? And what do you mean, you're only 15 minutes late! Where have you been all day?" Peggy was nearly babbling as the tension of the last few hours released itself in a burst of adrenaline-fueled chatter.

Sudden understanding dawned, and Bob's lips pursed in mild vexation. "For heaven's sake, Peg," he said, striding into the kitchen. "You're the one who insisted we hang this thing up in the first place." He plucked something off the small, magnetic cork board stuck to the side of the refrigerator and returned with it. Cocking his head and raising one eyebrow, he handed it to her. "You know, it's not just for that endless honey-do list you've got posted there."

The message board! Peggy suddenly felt very foolish. She glanced down at the paper, scrutinizing Bob's jaggy, left-handed scrawl.

_"__Peg –_

_Gotta make a quick run to Yakima. Don't worry, I know what day it is. I'll be home by 7 for that candlelight dinner you've been promising. _

_Love, Bob"_

She looked up at him. "Yakima?"

His mouth curved into that slightly lop-sided grin she loved so much. "Well, yeah. How else was I going to be able to surprise you?" He leaned toward her a little and tapped her lightly on the nose with his index finger. "Don't even try to deny that you've been in every store in town trying to find out if I'd bought your Valentine's Day gift there." He sighed dramatically. "You drive a man to desperate lengths, Mrs. Beldon."

Bob held up the slightly-worse-for-wear tissue paper bundle. Peggy now saw the petals of many deep, red roses peeking out the top. Her husband presented them a bit awkwardly - almost shyly - then leaned in for a quick kiss. "Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart." He frowned a little as she unwrapped them and a cascade of petals fell out onto the tiled floor between them. "They were in better shape before you tackled me."

Peggy buried her face in the fragrant blossoms and inhaled deeply. "Oh, Bob. They're beautiful. Thank you." Then she fixed him with a slightly skeptical look. "But … really? You had to go all the way to Yakima for a dozen roses?"

"Ahem. THREE dozen roses, if you please. One for every year you've put up with me." He feigned indignation. "And no. I didn't drive two hours just for some flowers. I went all the way to Yakima to pick up something _really_ special for my best girl."

Peggy smiled. "What is it?"

Maybe you'd better sit down first." He waggled his eyebrows a little, enticing her.

Giving him a suspicious look, Peggy set her flowers on the countertop and crossed to the sofa in the living room. Bob sat beside her.

"Well?" she prompted.

He fished into the front pocket of his mustard-yellow jacket and withdrew something with a flourish. When he opened his fist, Peggy saw a small box, its velvet covering a match for her own blue eyes, on his palm.

She reached out and picked it up. It felt soft and warm in her hand. With trembling fingers, she lifted the lid and gasped. The box contained a ring. It was a slim, silver band with a small diamond solitaire. Suddenly Peggy's vision blurred with tears.

"Oh, Bob. My engagement ring."

"Not the original, I'm afraid," he said softly. "That's long gone. When you had to pawn your ring to bail me out of jail, it was the worst day of my life – and the luckiest. That was the moment I finally realized that I needed help, or I was going to lose the only thing that made my life worth living. I swore then that one day I'd put that ring back on your finger, Peg. I'm just sorry it took 20 years."

Bob's large hand dwarfed the delicate ring as he used a calloused thumb and forefinger to remove it from the box. "May I?"

Peggy's left hand shook as she held it up for her husband's inspection. He laid it lightly on his right palm and carefully placed the ring on her finger. "I was going to get you something bigger, but I know how sentimental you are. Figured you'd rather have a duplicate of the original."

"You figured right." Peggy held her hand up to the light and admired the little sparkle the diamond threw off. "It's perfect." Tears began to flow then. "Just like you."

"I believe that's my line, Mrs. Beldon." Bob leaned in and kissed her tenderly. "So does that make up for being 15 minutes late?" he asked, taking her hand again.

"I think I can let you off the hook this time," she laughed, then frowned in the direction of the kitchen. "I'm not sure the prime rib is as forgiving, though."

He shrugged good-naturedly. "You know I like my meat a little on the crusty side." Spying the double-chocolate cheesecake on the table, his grin widened. "Or we could just start with dessert."

Peggy rose and pulled her husband to his feet. "So you're eating sweets again?" she asked as they made their way to the dining room table, hand in hand.

"Oh, you noticed I'd cut back, huh?" Bob popped open the bottle of sparkling cider and filled their glasses as Peggy pulled the plates out of the oven.

"Yeah, I noticed. Between that and you avoiding me for the past month, I-" Peggy stopped abruptly, but it was too late.

"You what?" Bob's voice was soft, and when Peggy turned toward the table she saw sadness in his kind eyes.

"I-I guess I didn't know what to think," she admitted. She set his plate down, then her own, and sat across from him at the table.

"Did you think I was drinking again, Peg?"

She lowered her eyes to the tablecloth. "No … I mean, not really. I didn't want to think that, Bob. It's just, you were acting so strangely."

"Strangely?"

"Yes. Spending 14 hours a day in the shop, running off in the middle of the day, coming home and racing off to the shower." She gestured toward the cheesecake. "Turning down my baked goods."

Bob rolled his eyes. "You're too damned observant, Peggy. I should have known I couldn't pull the wool over your eyes."

"And just what wool are you trying to pull, Bob? Just why have you been acting so weird?"

"Well, I spent all the extra time in the shop working on some custom orders to pay for the ring," he explained.

"And the disappearing act? The sudden aversion to my baking?"

Bob looked a little embarrassed. "I've … um … been … working out. At the Speedy Gym downtown. That's the reason for the middle-of-the-day showers. And by giving up sweets I've lost 10 lbs." He gave her a mock stern look. "Thanks for tormenting me with all those pies and cookies, by the way. Sadist."

Peggy couldn't help but giggle. "Sorry. If you'd told me you were dieting, I would have been more considerate." She cocked her head. "But why the sudden interest in fitness – not that I disapprove, mind you."

Bob was suddenly very focused on cutting his prime rib. "Uh, I just wanted to …" He faltered, started again. "Remember last month, when we were sorting through pictures of us for the new brochure?"

"Yes."

"I couldn't help noticing how wonderful you looked, Peggy." He glanced up at her. "I swear, you're even more beautiful than the day I married you. And I looked …"

Peggy was genuinely confused. "You looked … what?"

He cleared his throat and looked down at his plate again. "A little … paunchy."

His wife made a strangled little sound in her throat. "Paunchy?"

"Yeah. You know, kinda soft around the middle." He sighed. "I didn't want you to feel like you're saddled with some out-of-shape old codger."

Bob sounded so sheepish, so sincere, that Peggy felt a little guilty as she laughed out loud. His head snapped up. "Hey, what's so funny?"

"I'm sorry. I just never thought I'd see the day when Bobby Beldon felt insecure about his looks."

"Are you saying I'm vain?"

Peggy picked up a roll from the basket in front of her and tossed it playfully at her husband. "I'm saying that you have always been very secure in the knowledge that you were the handsomest boy ever to graduate from Cedar Cove High."

"Yeah, well, high school was a long time ago."

"Doesn't seem that way," Peggy smiled. "Sometimes it feels like yesterday." Seeing his still-downcast look, she took pity on him. "Oh, come on, Bob. You must know what they call you around town."

He quirked his eyebrows. "What do they call me?"

She gave him a pointed look. "The Silver Fox of Cedar Cove." She was gratified by the grin that spread across her husband's face. "Oh, I'm glad that pleases you. Meanwhile, I've spent 30 years defending my territory from every woman within 50 miles, and it doesn't look like it's going to let up any time soon."

Peggy could almost see Bob's chest puff up. "Silver fox, huh?"

"Yep. Only yesterday I had to give Edna Stanton the stink eye."

"You're making that up."

She shook her head. "I wish! Remember, we ran into Edna outside Moon's yesterday morning?" He nodded. "Well, as you headed off to the hardware store, I caught her staring at your backside, all the way down the street." She frowned at his delighted chuckle. "I swear to God, Bob, she was positively _leering_."

"Come on, that nice, little old lady?"

"Ha! That little old lady is a shameless cougar." Peggy pointed her fork emphatically toward her husband. "I'll tell you one thing, Bob Beldon. We are NOT letting her win the holiday decorating contest _this_ year."

Bob was grinning now from ear to ear. Mission accomplished, Peggy thought with satisfaction.

"Peggy Marie Beldon," her husband began, his tone light as air. "You don't have to worry about Edna Stanton or anybody else." His eyes shone with that look that was only for her. "From the minute I first laid eyes on you, I knew there would never be anyone else for me."

"Ditto," she replied, reaching across the table to pat his hand. "Now let's dig into that cheesecake."

"After all the work I've put into this buff physique?" he teased.

"Frankly, I think I prefer you with a little more meat on your bones," she replied. "It's sexy."

"Oh, yeah? Well, then …" He cut a wide slice of cheesecake and set it on his plate.

"You know, there is one good thing about your new fitness routine," Peggy commented, nibbling on her own, much smaller slice of dessert. "You're going to need that stamina for the Valentine's Day gift I have for _you_."

He looked up. "Oh?"

She nodded, a mysterious little smile playing about her face. "Uh huh. It's in the bedroom."

Bob set down his fork. "Really? Tell me more."

"It's something you've been asking for for a long time, but I was never quite ready." She glanced up at him through lowered lashes, amused to see him flush red around the ears.

"Um … I really can't imagine-"

"But you've been a good boy, so I think you've earned it," Peggy continued casually. "However, you're responsible for cleaning up the mess."

Bob's eyes grew wide. He looked confused and almost a little nervous. "Now, Peg. I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with …"

"Wait here." Peggy got up and headed for the bedroom. In a moment she was back, carrying a bulky carton with a stack of folded up newspapers on top. She set the box on the table in front of Bob. He looked at it, puzzled that it seemed to be rocking a little.

"Go ahead." Peggy gestured.

Bob set the stack of newspapers to one side and opened the box. "Oh, my God!" he exclaimed at the same time that something small, brown and furry leaped out onto his chest and began licking his face.

Laughing, Bob managed to get his hands around the squirming creature's tummy and held it up. "A puppy?"

"Every boy needs a dog." Peggy's heart swelled at the pure joy on her husband's face. The little lab was wriggling, tail wagging furiously, and making little yipping sounds. Bob pulled the pup close to his chest and looked down into its face, then back at Peggy. "You are the greatest wife a man ever had, you know that?"

"I hope you'll remember that when you're mopping up the puddle I just found on the bedroom floor." She nodded toward the newspapers. "Something tells me we're going to go through a lot of those in the next few weeks."

Bob seemed unperturbed. "What's his name?" he asked.

"That's up to you. I suppose you'll name him something manly and tough, like Duke." She leaned over to pet the little guy on the head, and Bob's eyes caught the flash of diamond on her finger.

"I think I'll call you Ringo," Bob said, rubbing the puppy's warm, black nose against his own.

"Hm. I'm starting to feel a little jealous here. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Peggy pouted.

"Oh, I think I can make it up to you," Bob winked. He set the puppy on the floor and watched it scamper off into the living room. He stood and circled his wife in his arms, kissing her with a passion that made her go a little weak in the knees. "I think Ringo can take care of himself for a little while, don't you?" he murmured in her ear. She nodded, too breathless to answer coherently.

"Do you know how crazy I am about you, Peggy Beldon?" Bob said, taking her face in his hands.

She smiled and nodded, then removed his hands from her face so she could lead him toward the bedroom. "Happy Valentine's Day, Bob."

As the bedroom door closed quietly behind them, Ringo lay down in the living room and contentedly chewed the corner of the couch.


End file.
